Far From Home and Back Again
by EvocativeDecadence
Summary: Jack comes home after a prolonged absence. This is set after the end of Torchwood and the Children of Earth.


Far From Home and Back Again

Jack's feet touched ground he hadn't set foot on in 35 years. Not that he was counting, anyways. But still. 35 years _was_ a long time to be away. He looked up, and gave a thumbs up to the transport ship a couple hundred feet up, holding the smile till he was sure they had left. A painful sense of nostalgia overtook him as he looked around at the familiar surroundings. It looked as if the terror and panic all those years ago had in fact never happened. It had hurt him to be away this long, but being here, knowing that he was the cause of the death and destruction, and the fear was much more painful being here. He inhaled deep, and walked towards the monument that had been rebuilt in the years passing-minus the Torchwood facility, of course. Torchwood had been inactive for a while, shall we say. Jack looked down the wharf, and tried to hold back the pain as he saw the staff entrance to the building-as opposed to the 'tourist-entrance'- where Ianto used to work undercover. Memories were everywhere, walking by in their past purposes, brushing past and surrounding him, almost choking him. He turned away. He couldn't stay any longer. He didn't think about Tosh. Or Owen. Or Ianto. Or his grandson. He didn't think of anyone. Just time to take care of business, that's all. He got some intel from a very wise, very old friend that today was a very important day, one that he wouldn't want to miss.

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Jack mustered up his strength and pushed through the metal swinging doors that marked the entrance to the correct ward. The scent of decay, bowel movements and attempted sterility permeated the air, almost gagging him with its thick odor. '139-B…139-B…' At last he found the door. Her door. He paused a moment, and pushed it open. Out of the two beds, only one was occupied. A nurse was checking readings on the machines and looked up at his arrival. "Are you here to visit? How nice, you're the first visitor she has had in…well…" The aged and kindly nurse looked down. "Well, you are here now. That's all that matters. I will warn you-eh…" She paused expectantly. "Captain Jack Harkness, ma'am," Jack replied softly. "I should warn you, Captain, that she frequently becomes confused, and well…let me just say that she has been waiting for a…visitor… for a very long time. Don't make this any harder on her than this has to be." She made a final, cursory scan of the monitors, gathered herself up to leave, but as she passed Jack, she laid one gentle hand on his arm and said softly, "I truly am sorry, Captain. For whatever that happened to make you have such sad, old eyes. I might not know much, but I do know this. You have been waiting for this day a long, long time as well. Before you leave, make it worth your visit." With that, she left, and Jack was left alone with his daughter.

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Jack stared down at her in sadness and in wonder. Lines travelled down her weary face, her hair was silvery and slight, like whisps of cotton that, in the slightest breeze might blow away in the wind. Her body was small, and frail, her breath rattled in her chest, and Jack knew the reason why this day was important. He could smell the sickness. Today was her day, the day he could never have. "Honey?" He whispered softly as he stroked one hand down her wrinkled cheek. "You in there, sweets? It's your old man." Her eyes opened, and Jack caught his breath, prepared for the worst. Her eyes were milky and filmed, and Jack realized she was blind. Frown lines deepened on her brow as she became aware of his presence in the room. Raising her hand shakily, she grasped his large, tanned hand weakly. Faintly but firmly, she murmured, "I…am _not_ confused, Jack Harkness. And don't you _ever_ forget it." Jack chuckled weakly. "I don't think you would let me forget anything," Jack said quietly, attempting humor but not quite getting it, tasting the bitter tang of regret and wanting to bite off his tongue. Turning her head towards the sound of his voice, she fastened her sightless-but nevertheless penetrating- eyes on Jack. "No, I wouldn't, would I?" She hummed cynically. "So. Why are you here? To seek absolution? After all these years, when there was no time left, when you couldn't run from yourself and your conscience any longer, you finally decided to face me when I am about to kick the bucket. What for? Are you hoping that the years would have lessened your crime in my eyes? Is that what you were hoping for, Jack Harkness?" Her voice wavered, fading, as if each sentence took a little more life out of her. She stared at him. Jack felt like they would burn right through him, and see the depth of his shame. "No. I killed your son. My…my grandson…" Jack let his tears flow freely now. Clearing his throat, he started again. "I just came to say goodbye, is all. And that…I love you. I really do." Her eyes narrowed, "What do you know, Jack Harkness? What are you not telling me?" She frowned, and then her face cleared. "So that's it then. Todays the big day, isn't it? And you came, on the last day poss-poss-ibuh-" She broke off as she started hacking, and specks of blood spattered on her lips. The wet, sucking cough seemed to emanate from deep within her lungs. Any moment now, really. "You know what, Jack Harkness?" She managed to rasp out breathily, "You did what you had to-"she paused as she coughed up more blood. The beepers on the monitors were going crazy as her heart rate slowed. "Because you had to save the world, again. I know you are not sorry. I won't forgive you-because that's not-" She was getting fainter and weaker by the moment, her life fading from her withered, decrepit form, her hand loosening its grip on his, "What…what you need." She wheezed. Jack didn't need to be a doctor to recognize the signs of heart failure. Pretty much 'everything failure', if one wanted to put a technical term on it. She gathered her breath, "What you…need to know is…if I still love…you. Only that…way…can you forgive…yourself for…what you did…" She paused, out of breath. Looking up with tears in her eyes, and with her last breath chuckled darkly, "You big lug, of course…how could I not love you…Dad…" Her eyes fluttered shut as the heart monitor produced one solitary note, indicating that the patient's heart has failed. Jack's face contorted as he wept silently, clutching her small hand to his cheek. Doctor's rushed in and shouted, bustling around-but Jack heard none of it. Releasing her hand, he placed it over her motionless breast, and quietly took his leave.

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Jack stood motionless on the damp, green grass in the early morning. The air was cold, the chill was damp, and the gray sky seemed to weep along with him. A soft mist fell from the sky that blanketed all other sounds from the outside world. The service was over, the few friends she had had- only about three elderly orderlies that had been there as long as she had been- had long since departed, and she had been lowered into the ground awaiting burial. There was no one left. No one but him. Like always. A slight wind ruffled his coat, sending wet chills deep inside his bones, and he tightened his clasped hands behind his back. The scene seemed eternal. He could feel the grief slowly becoming apathy. Jack could not quite remember how long he had been standing there. Time seemed…irrelevant. Jack barely noticed as another walked up beside him, and stood at his side. A gentle, unassuming voice slowly wound its way through the fog in his mind. "Is that we are calling this now? Irrelevant? Well. I know a bit about irrelevancy, old friend…" Jack couldn't quite remember what happened after that. All he knew was that a very old, very wise friend helped him forget for a couple of years. Or a week. Or a day. Who knew? Time-and everything else was irrelevant, remember…


End file.
